


Colors At First Sight

by Kitty_KatAllie



Series: YOI Soulmates Week 2020 [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Ace/AroSpec Phichit, Gen, viktuuri is only mentioned not a focus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25954573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitty_KatAllie/pseuds/Kitty_KatAllie
Summary: YoI Soulmate Week Day 1: SightIn a world of black and white, only making eye contact with your Soulmate allows a person to see colors. Love at first sight, a tale as old as time. The thing is, it's not only for the romantic. Not everyone's love looks exactly the same as everyone else's.So just what does Phichit's love look like?
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Phichit Chulanont & Katsuki Yuuri, Phichit Chulanont & Lee Seung Gil
Series: YOI Soulmates Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883737
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	Colors At First Sight

He was five before he realized how different he was from everyone else. 

To everyone, Phichut Chulannot was just as happy, excitable a baby as all his siblings and cousins. He smiled and cheered and squealed for balloons, his favorite toys, his favorite clothes, just like every other child. So his favorite things tended to be brighter, heavily skewed to reds and yellows and oranges; that was just coincidence. So he was fussy and particular about his food, spitting out anything green and crying if given anything red after he snuck a taste of the peppers on his father's too spicy fish dish one night; children normally hated vegetables and spicy foods. So his favorite movie was an ice skating themed musical with glittering, vivid costumes and make up; it also had entertaining songs and music, with awe-inspiring choreography that Phichit demanded to learn. So he stared wide-eyed and awed at the teenagers with their brightly, patchwork-dyed hair and eye-searing socks and backpacks; adults around Phichit barely even noticed him looking. These things were carefully curated towards teenagers who were trying to make finding their Soulmate easier, or who found buying brighter and garishly colored items they couldn't even "see" as a way to make a statement against a world of grey, white, and black for most people under 18.

Older people often joked it was a subconsciously passive-aggressive way to punish their elders, since only older people would have to suffer through their ridiculous color schemes. 

Then, Phichit turned five and, during the kindergarten art period, asked the teacher why all the crayons were the same. 

In fact they _were_ different by shade. Every crayon was blue, just different hues. From an almost white sky-blue, to shimmering silver grey, to dark navy. Many primary aged art supplies were set up by shades instead of color like this, but Phichit's at home were always of the latter, since his parents had indulged his childish "quirks" with good humor. It took the teacher less than ten minutes to realize the happily humming boy, now situated with a pack of 96 colors, knew exactly what those 96 colors were, he just didn't have names for them. 

For some people, realizing they were born already seeing color, that they were part of a percentage so small he made international news (name redacted and no picture attached as per his family's request) before his sixth birthday, this would make them feel ostracized. Perhaps they would be bullied, pushed out of social circles by children confused by anything different. But Phichit was unlike a lot of people.

To him, colors were just _there_. He always had them and always would, so why ask _why_? Why consider himself strange or a "freak" or let it hold him back? He threw himself in life with the same vibrancy he saw in the colors around him. He went to school dressed in clothes that burned the eyes of colorblind and Soulmated alike. He wore make-up through middle school just to add more color. His costumes for theatre recitals and junior ice shows were downright gaudy with color until he figured out how to make colors _work_ for him. He refused to let anyone else tell him what colors to wear unless he liked it himself.

Then, he moved to America and met his polar opposite in every way but one. A boy a few years older than him who could see colors, but who had a Soulmate (he'd just never met them in person). 

* * *

"Yuuri, you _know_ you look terrible in that shade of orange. Actually, that shade of orange shouldn't even _exist_. Why do you hurt me like this?" Phichit moaned, flopping onto the bleachers and throwing an arm over his face. 

"It's comfortable," his downright dowdy friend replied with a pause. He was frowning at his notes, muttering and crossing something out.

"Why are you crossing out the combo there? You've been landing it in every practice," Phichit asked curiously. Yuuri's head ducked as pink dusted his cheeks.

"I thought it was a bit obvious... if I used it," Yuuri whispered. 

Phichit lifted his socked foot, which he'd freed from his skate just seconds ago, and poked Yuuri in the side. He scowled as he swatted Phichit's foot away.

"You mean because _The Viktor Nikiforov_ used that exact combo last season? No one's going to notice but you, it's not like it's that complicated," Phichit teased, dodging Yuuri's hand to poke at his ribs with his pointed toes again. 

"Stop that. _I'll_ know, and I'll know that I don't do it half as well," Yuuri sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. 

"You definitely jump that just as well. You're just too love struck to notice," Phichit said.

Yuuri sputtered, then got himself together and glared furiously. He would've been a lot scarier if he didn't have the softest cinnamon roll of a face, and red ears and cheeks, too. Phichit sat up and pinched both of those squishy red cheeks, making Yuuri slap at his hands and almost fall off the bench to get away. They were both laughing, Yuuri battling Phichit's hands away and Phichit pinching his fingers like a crab, when Celestino came up to the boards.

"If you're going to fool around, then just go. You're both done with practice today," he said in amusement.

 _"Awww,_ CiaoCiao, don't sound so mean. We did good!" Phichit whined. Yuuri was tense next to him. Even though he had almost 2 years more experience with Celestino, he still took Celestino's every rebuke too seriously. 

"Yes, Coach."

Celestino’s smile was a little soft at edges when he looked at his student. "Yuuri, don't worry over your choreography so much. You're in great shape for Salt Lake City this September, and the Asian Open next month,” he said at last.

"I should've done better at Sochi," Yuuri whispered, staring at his feet.

“It's already over and you did as well as you could. Tenth is great, Yuuri!” he said with expansive wave of his hands before turning towards his other students. The girls were on the ice now. 

Celestino didn't notice Yuuri's small flinch, but Phichit did. He grabbed his sneakers and shoved his feet into them.

"C'mon, Yuuri, if we head out now, maybe Alondra will make us dinner," Phichit said as he tugged Yuuri to his feet. As hoped, it made his older friend scoff and smile.

"You know she and Candace will kill you for interrupting date night again."

"Not if I bring _you_ ," Phichit replied with a laugh. "You're everyone's favorite."

Yuuri merely shook his head in fond exasperation. _Silly boy_ , Phichit thought just as fondly. 

July in Detroit wasn’t too hot, not like Thailand. It also wasn’t peak typhoon season. It had been strange last summer, his first summer, to not feel like he was melting every day of the week or to carry around a poncho, ready for the next sudden squall to roll through. Phichit and Yuuri walked quietly through campus, Phichit scrolling through his pictures of practice to choose the best to post online, Yuuri probably scrolling through whatever socials he never posted to. 

“So, what’s up?” Phichit said with a very practiced casual. Yuuri tensed next to him. 

“What do you mean?”

“That comment about Sochi. Yuuri, you were an _Olympian,_ tenth or not. Actually, tenth out thirty of the best athletes in the _world_ is still amazing.”

“Viktor won silver.”

“And Viktor has four more years of experience at least.”

Yuuri looked over to see Phichit smiling at him and he looked away again quickly. Phichit could just barely see the downward curve of his mouth and dark eyebrow. 

“Last time… in Vancouver. I made fifth,” Yuuri whispered. “I was supposed to get better, I _can_ be better, but I flubbed it. Like I always do.”

“You do _not_ always flub it!” Phichit exclaimed. “You’ve medalled plenty of times! You’re a two time gold winner at Nationals! You even medalled at Four Continents this year!”

“But never when it matters!” Yuuri burst out. “How am I supposed to meet him, talk to him, have him look at me and realize I’m his _Soulmate,_ Phichit!? When even if he’s not there, I screw myself up during more than half my performances! I should be better than _tenth place_.”

They had stopped walking by then, ignoring the curious but cursory glances and stares of university students passing by. Yuuri’s hands were curled into fists at his side, his body shaking and his eyes glassy under his scowl. 

“I thought so,” Phichit said with a little laugh. “You are the worst loser.”

Yuuri jerked in place and stared at him. “What?”

“What did you really want to get?”

Yuuri twitched and looked away, that spark of anger gone and replaced by something more bashful and humble. “Tenth is—”

“But what did you _want_?”

Yuuri's fingers fidgeted, twisting and poking together. “Gold.”

“Damn right you did!” Phichit thrust his fist in the air. “What's the point of being a competitor if you don't want to win gold?!”

“I'm nowhere good enough for that! It's ridiculous to even think I could get a gold at the Olympics,” Yuuri protested dragging his hands through his hair. Phichit smirked at him and Yuuri sighed. “But I still wanted it.”

“So why didn’t you use the music you wanted? Alondra made it, right?” Phichit asked.

“Yeah, and I think she did exactly what I asked for, which is _exactly_ the problem. Coach Celestino thought so, too,” Yuuri said with a shrug. Phichit’s eyebrow quirked up. “It’s supposed reflect my career as it is so far. And… well, it wasn’t music that could get me a win.”

“... I didn’t think Alondra knew much about your career. She’s not really into figure skating except for the few videos she’s seen online since meeting us…” Phichit said slowly.

“I gave her a basic idea, and recommended a few videos—”

“Oh, god. Yuuri, you couldn’t hype yourself to kindergarten students, let alone your entire career to someone outside the ISU. I could’ve helped!”

“I thought it suited me, actually. Something was missing from it, and something is missing from me,” Yuuri said, dangerously casual. He was staring at his feet, one shoulder barely shrugging. 

“Yuuri.” Phichit wanted to hug him, even stepped forward to do so, but remembered where they were and how uncomfortable it would make Yuuri right now. Especially after admitting something so personal in that horribly uncasual casual tone of voice. 

Phichit didn’t want to be yet another person shoved away for intruding on Yuuri’s self-perceived weakness. He didn’t think he would be— but mainly because he knew what Yuuri hated. They slowly began walking again, Yuuri moving first and Phichit falling into step. 

After a long silent moment, Phichit murmured, “Is it really that bad? Not being with him?”

Yuuri glanced at him, then away. “Sometimes I forget. I feel fine, totally normal. And then suddenly it’s not normal anymore. Like there’s a whole half of me missing and I’m… I’m lonelier than I’ve been in my life.”

“That… that’s rough, buddy.”

Yuuri chuckled. “Thanks, but luckily, my Soulmate didn’t turn into the moon, so it could be rougher.”

They chuckled a bit more and Phichit bumped their shoulders together. 

“It’s easier. With you,” Yuuri said slowly. Phichit’s head jerked up and he looked over in surprise. Yuuri was staring down at his feet, one hand behind his head, and his ears red. “Sometimes I feel so lonely, I can’t drag myself out of it. Then, I just go find you and it’s… better.”

“Really? So… what, I’m like Soulmate-lite?” Phichit said. Yuuri flushed cherry-red.

“That was weird, right? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said—”

“You definitely should have! That was probably the best compliment I’ve ever gotten in my life,” Phichit assured him quickly. Now that Yuuri was embarrassed rather than feeling vulnerable, Phichit threw himself around Yuuri’s shoulders and squeezed tight. Yuuri merely meeped, then sighed. “If you ever need a hit of all this, I gotchu, boo.”

“Phichit, no.” He let Phichit laugh a bit before carefully asking, “No one’s… no one’s said something like that before? To you?”

He stared at Yuuri, baffled. “Uh… I don’t think so? Why?”

Yuuri shrugged and stared really hard at Phichit’s collar. “It’s just… maybe that’s why you already see colors? Sometimes I think… being around you is like what it’s like to be around my Soulmate. Sometimes. So maybe you’re… you’re everyone’s Soulmate, in a way? That’s dumb, sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Wait, no, no, lemme think about it!” Phichit sagged forward, dropping more and more of his weight on Yuuri’s back. Yuuri hefted an arm around Phichit’s waist and grunted slightly. “So I _am_ like your Soulmate-lite?”

“No! I mean…" Yuuri groaned and stared heavenward for a moment. "Soulmates don’t have to be romantic, right? What if your friendship is… it’s so important that it’s just as special as any other kind of Soulmate? It’s just an idea.”

“I’m everyone’s Soulmate, huh? I like it.”

Yuuri smiled that smile, that sweet soft smile that made everyone feel #blessed to see it. Phichit couldn’t help but squish his cheeks between both his hands. Yuuri rolled his eyes again and waited for Phichit to be done with his still blushing face. They spent the rest of the trudge to their shared dorm with Phichit being half-dragged over Yuuri’s shoulders. Hey, Yuuri was the one who said being around Phichit made him feel better. Phichit was providing a _service._

* * *

Adrenaline still hummed under his skin despite being off the ice. His muscles were burning and his feet and knees ached, but he couldn't help pacing around the edge of the rink. Phichit cheered and took picture after picture of every competitor, leaving Yuuri behind at their bench to shake off his adrenaline his own way. Honestly, Phichit had been so relieved when Yuuri had ended up in the first group. The sooner he got his programs done, the less chance his anxiety had to sink its fangs in deep. It had been pretty bad, but Phichit had seen it worse at 4CC when Yuuri had been in the last group. 

The zamboni slowly drove over the ice before the last group of the Asian Open men's short programs. Phichit stopped next to a competitor who looked even paler than Yuuri at his most anxious. A second look proved the skater was just naturally pale, his pitch black hair and gaudily pastel yellow and pink outfit, glittering with sequins, did not help.

“Wow. Seung-gil... that's a _choice_ ,” Phichit said, eyes wide. 

The Korean skater turned towards him with a glare ready to kill him on the spot. “Do I even know you?”

“Of course you do! I'm Phichit. I skate for Thailand and I met you at 4CC.”

Seung-gil's eyebrows twitched together slightly. 

“You wanna take a post-skate selfie? We're both top 5 still!”

“No.”

“Hmm, probably a good idea. Our costumes will clash,” Phichit said while looking down at his varying shades of ochre hued costume, a shimmer downward angled and across his chest. He was undeterred by Seung-gil’s disinterest just yet. “For someone with such a... serious face, it really doesn't reflect your costume choices. Your 4CC's free was pretty colorful, too, wasn't it?” Phichit remembered. “Is your stylist taking advantage of your colorblindness?”

“…I'm not colorblind.”

Phichit blinked and actually blushed. _Blushed_! _Him_! “Oh, oh wow, I really put my foot in it.”

Seung-gil's mouth actually twitched upwards on one side before smoothing out. “You did. It doesn't matter. My Soulmate is familial. My younger brother.”

“That’s so rare!” Phichit exclaimed, a hand over his gasping mouth. “Like the Crispinos!”

“We’re _nothing_ like the Crispinos. Shut your mouth,” Seung-gil snapped, pale cheeks red. 

Phichit snickered and held up his hands. “Sorry, sorry. But, you know, I've seen colors my whole life. If yours is familial, then you must have seen colors most your life, too?”

“I was four. I don't even remember what it was like being colorblind.” He was still frowning as the next group went out for their six-minute warm-up.

“Me neither. But I'm pretty sure I was _born_ seeing colors,” Phichit said, smiling absently. “So that makes me more special than even you.”

Seung-gil glanced towards him, then back to the skaters. “Most... most people wouldn't say that.”

“What, that we're special?” Phichit asked with faux-innocence. Which Seung-gil saw right through with the eyebrow on Phichit’s side rising, not even bothering to turn. Phichit laughed and leaned onto the boards next to him. Seung-gil tensed, then slowly relaxed. “I’m not most people. You have your Soulmate, right?”

Seung-gil nodded warily. 

“Not me. Not that I know of anyway. Yuuri, my best friend, says maybe I’m _everybody’s_ Soulmate. I kinda like that,” Phichit said with a grin. “I don’t like having limits on who and what is my _single_ most important person.”

“It seems like a lot of work. Taking on the burden of being there for everyone else,” Seung-gil said quietly. 

“It’s only a burden if I didn’t like it,” Phichit pointed out. 

Seung-gil scoffed under his breath. “It sounds like my nightmare.”

Phichit burst into laughter, leaning his entire weight on the boards to keep from falling. “I believe it.”

“Not that it matters, but maybe it’s not because everyone else needs you,” Seung-gil continued. “What if you only need _yourself_?”

Phichit blinked rapidly. “What?”

Seung-gil scowled hard enough it pinched the corners of his eyes. “You’re enough for yourself to be complete. I love my little brother, but sometimes I hate it.” His hands clasped in front of himself, tight enough that his already pale fingers looked bloodless at the knuckles. “Knowing that if anything happened to him, it could ruin me. I’ve always been rather selfish.”

“No, no, that… that makes sense. I could never tell Y— my friend, but…” Phichit glanced across the ice, making sure there was no way his friend could overhear him. With the music cued up and first skater of the last group going out, it would be even more impossible. “Sometimes I’m really glad that I’ll never have to worry about it. My friend knows his Soulmate, but they don’t know him and… it tears him up a lot. You might resent your own bond, but I resent my _friend’s._ Who’s more selfish?” He smiled and ducked his head a little. “I like the idea, though, that I’m complete on my own. That feels like it fits. I like my friend’s version, too. So maybe it’s a bit of both?” He laughed again and shrugged. 

His hands loosened just before Seung-gil stood up. He held out a hand, and Phichit, bemused and grinning, shook it before Seung-gil could change his mind. 

“So this makes us friends?” Phichit asked eagerly. 

“I don’t have friends. We’re fellow competitors,” Seung-gil replied. Phichit darted in to put an arm around Seung-gil’s shoulders, phone already up and ready. 

“Friends at the Asian Open! Good luck to us!” He winked and smiled at his phone. Despite his early protests, Seung-gil all but Vogue’d his pose, eyebrow perfectly arched, chin tilted, face turned 3/4 degrees away for the perfect side profile. Phichit eagerly added the Memory filter to give it a soft and almost old-timey hue, which Seung-gil scoffed at behind Phichit’s back. 

“At least it’s not with a lens flare,” Seung-gil muttered. 

“I don’t have some _Basic_ Instagram. How dare you insinuate otherwise,” Phichit hissed at him, glancing towards the ice where the song was winding down. “Look at these treasures.” He shoved his phone under Seung-gil’s nose. 

“Hamsters. That’s a lot of hamsters. And Katsuki.”

“Of course you recognize Yuuri. He’s the only one that thinks he’s not famous,” Phichit said with a grin. “I have _five_ hamsters. Are they the cutest? You can’t judge, either, since the only thing I’ve seen on your insta is your dog. They’re very pretty.”

Seung-gil actually smiled, there and gone again in a flash. “Hyun-shik is a very good dog.” He immediately frowned. “You follow me?”

“Um, duh. You’re an up-and-coming skater in my age bracket and Asian. We’ll be skating together for years to come!” Phichit held up a fist.

“Hm.”

“Now, come on. It’s time to meet Yuuri. He’ll love your dog. Hyun-shik?”

“Y-yes? Why would he—”

“He’s obsessed with dogs and has a toy poodle back home.”

“A toy poodle?” Seung-gil repeated. His pace picked up and he was almost pushing past Phichit to get to where Yuuri was poking at his phone. “You have a poodle.”

Yuuri startled with a soft yelp and looked up. He glanced at Seung-gil, then at Phichit who was still holding his wrist, and then nodded once. 

“Did Phichit drag you over here because I have a dog?”

“He has a dog, too!” Phichit shoved Seung-gil onto the bench and then flopped onto the bench next to Yuuri. 

The two dog lovers were already scrolling through their selected instagram posts, but if Phichit knew Yuuri, he’d be opening his photo albums soon enough. He didn’t post near enough on instagram or twitter to satisfy his need to show off his Vicchan to a new captive audience. He was equally dewy-eyed over the admittedly beautiful Siberian Husky puppy in Seung-gil’s carefully and almost professionally photographed posts. 

Maybe he _was_ complete on his own. Maybe his colorsight meant he didn’t need anyone but himself. It felt just as right thinking that there was so much inside himself that he was meant to share it. To give it out to people that mattered with an equal amount of care and love. No one better or worse, more or less important. He was _supposed_ to reach out and touch every life around him, hopefully for the better. He watched Seung-gil easily slot into place in his life, in Yuuri’s, and felt a bone-deep, a _Soul_ deep, satisfaction on a job well done. 

He had always had colors in his life, and he couldn’t imagine his life any differently. 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I'll write anything else for this Soulmate Week. But I had this idea and I had to write it.
> 
> and yes, if you want to, you can imagine Seung-gil and Phichit eventually becoming a super adorable couple. I headcanon them both as ace-spec, just based on Kubo's tweets about Seung-gil, and my own headcanons about Phichit (who can also be read as aro-spec too). I love the idea that... maybe they just stay good friends, or maybe they could end up together. It's up to you, but both are good. (I really only ship Seungchu for Phichit anyway😉)


End file.
